


Heat of the Moment

by AdamTheApprentice



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Anonymous Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, It's 5:30 AM and I'm Shaking as I Tag This, M/M, Male Apprentice (The Arcana), Masks, Not Beta Read, Obedience, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 10:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamTheApprentice/pseuds/AdamTheApprentice
Summary: The Apprentice gets picked out of a crowd by none other than the Count of Vesuvia himself for a night of fun.





	Heat of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I probably missed some tags let me know in the comments if I did! I hope y'all enjoy the smutty machinations of my brain!  
~Adam

The music, the lighting, the dancing, the entire  _ mood  _ of this room is different. Everything else is bright, full of boisterous laughter and raucous partying. Here, however, everything is dark, primal, energized. There are no lights except for pulsing orbs that dart and weave above the dancers, who grind together like a perverse, perverse orgy. And, somehow, I find myself in the middle of it. If it weren’t for the thick ribbon keeping my mask in place, I’m sure I would have lost it like some of the revelers around me have. They don’t seem disturbed by their unmasking at a masquerade, though, simply finding their mask and attaching it to themselves in some way or another.

The music takes a turn, becoming more sensual, and I feel hands on my hips. Someone speaks in my ear, and I shiver, biting my lip as their breath tickles my skin. “All alone, beautiful? You should let me keep you company.” One hand moves over my abdomen, and I shiver when I realize the fingers are tipped with sharp claws. There’s no doubt in my mind as to who I’m dancing with, and the thought of such a notorious man’s attention being solely on me is exciting. I’ve heard, of course, that his fancies travel quickly, but knowing that that fancy is currently me does nothing but stoke my ego.

Instead of answering my dance partner, I press back against him, grinding my hips back and letting my arms come up and back to reach into his hair and take a tight grip. The bemused growl that ruffles my hair is all I get in return before his hands begin wandering, tugging and clawing lightly at every edge. Nails scrape against my chest in the deep V of my costume’s neckline, and I can’t help the breathy moan that passes my lips.

I barely notice that we’ve moved away from the center of the writhing ‘dance’ until the hands are off my chest and one is clasped around my wrist, dragging me through a door hidden in the wall and through a dark, narrow passageway that I assume is in the wall. I stumble on a couple of steps, but quickly adjust to the brisk pace set by my ‘abductor’.

I manage to keep up all the way to our destination, which I barely get a look at before I’m spun around and deposited on what I’m pretty sure is a chaise lounge, judging by the seat back on one side of me and lack of second armrest. The Count perches above me, his half mask doing nothing to hide the wolfish grin on his lips as he shucks off his jacket, which just happens to be the only thing covering his chest as per usual. When I try to reach up and touch him, however, my hands are pinned above my head. “Tut tut, gorgeous. Trying to touch without permission is  _ quite _ naughty. But it’s your first offense, so I’ll give you a pass on punishment. Now, let’s go over the house rules.”

I bite my lips, flexing my wrists in his clawed grasp before nodding slowly. He chuckles and releases me, but I don’t move my hands from where he held them. Seemingly satisfied at my continued obedience, he smirks and returns to devesting himself.

“Rule number one, I am your god. I’m sure you already knew that, what with my  _ magnificence _ , but it will do you well to keep it at the forefront of your mind. My word is your religion so long as you’re in this room.”

The Count moves to a curio cabinet and opens a drawer, taking out two small, crystal bottles. “Rule number two, I’m not a barbarian. The safe word is ‘devil’ for a hard stop and ‘fire’ to slow down.” He looks back at me, a grin spreading across his face when he sees I still haven’t moved my arms. “I’ll heed them, on my honor as your Count.”

He moves back towards me, perching above me and tugging at my clothes with his claws.

“Those are really the only rules. If you heed them well, you’ll be rewarded.”

With a wink, he finally lets his claws rip through my costume. I bite my lip, shivering a bit as he continues his gleeful shredding, noting that this seems to be part of the fun for him. I can’t honestly say that his fascination with ripping every scrap of fabric off of me isn’t turning exciting, and I’m sure he can tell just how appreciative my traitorous mind is once he’s bared my entire body to his wandering eyes.

I’ve completely forgotten about the bottle in his free hand when he brings them between us. They look identical save for color, one being a vibrant crimson and the other a deep violet. He uncorks the violet one and brings it to my lips, clearly wanting me to drink. I do so, my eyes never leaving his as the liquid fills my mouth and I swallow.

Nothing happens for a few moments as the Count tosses the now empty vial to the side haphazardly and opens the second. I watch as he pours the contents of the red bottle into his flesh hand, the strange liquid coating his fingers and glistening in the candlelight. He tosses that bottle away, too, and when his claws come down on my stomach, I start to realize what the violet bottle had inside it. The contact sears my skin, but it isn’t unpleasant. Truly, the light trailing of his claws against my skin makes me writhe and moan with wanton pleasure.

Lucio smirks and scratches lightly at my skin, making my body arch off the cushions beneath me, he uses the opportunity to slide his metal arm beneath me and drag me up into his lap. “There’s a good boy. Now, I know this will sound disastrously difficult, but… Don’t come until I give you permission. Understand?” His smirk only grows when I nod eagerly, 

Only once he begins touching me again do I realize how hard of an endeavor this will be. His slick fingers slip between my cheeks and against my entrance before two press inside. The pressure and pleasure nearly have my eyes rolling back, and it takes everything in me to keep myself coherent enough to fight back against the orgasm Lucio seems intent on coaxing forward.

It feels like he’s preparing me for hours, my sense of time and self warped by the pleasure and the fight against euphoria. Finally, blessedly, I feel his fingers leave me, and I begin to relax, shivering from the feeling of emptiness and the light scratch of his claws on my waist. I’m not given much of a reprieve, though, as I soon feel the tip of his cock, slick from either precome or lubricant, press insistently at my entrance.

When he enters, slow and steady, I nearly come undone. My hands come so close to grabbing the Count to ground myself, but I quickly redirect them to grip the cushion beneath me. The drug he gave me makes his every movement sear with white hot pleasure, and I very nearly fail my directive to keep from coming. Lucio must see this, because he smirks and suddenly bucks his hips forward, driving the last couple of inches into me and burying himself to the hilt. My eyes really do roll back this time, and I have to reach down and clamp my hand around the base of my cock to stave off orgasm this time. He’s really not doing me any favors, and I’m afraid that if he keeps this half-teasing up much longer, I might break my word.

There’s no pause now, his hips start working, and I’m dragged under a tide of bliss. He bats my hand away from my cock, taking it in his own and beginning to stroke at a furious pace. All I can do is writhe and moan beneath him; I don’t even notice how close he’s bringing me until his fingers clamp around the base of my cock.

Time passes in a euphoric haze as he’s fucking me. He brings me to the edge again and again, and I know he keeps talking to me but I just can’t focus on anything. I can’t take it anymore; every little touch and twitch has built up and built up and I know the dam is about to break. I so break character, dragging Lucio tightly against me and whimpering as pathetically as I can in hopes that he’ll understand what I  _ need _ .

Thankfully, blessedly, wonderfully, Lucio takes my hint. He bites my ear and says something along the lines of “whenever you want”, but I barely even hear him. It only takes a few strokes after that for me tip tip over the edge, my orgasm hitting so hard that I’m very sure I pass out. I vaguely hear Lucio calling my name when he comes, and the aftercare is even fuzzier, but I feel him cleaning me and pressing kisses against my shoulders in my haze. He rubs my back slowly, and I smile softly, knowing that no one else sees this side of the Count. No one else sees the amount of care he gives to the ones who mean the most to him. The fantasy was nice, pretending to be strangers again, pretending it was our first time again. But hearing him whisper my name and feeling his hands rubbing at my sore muscles is the only ‘rush’ I need.


End file.
